


Starting Point

by SophinaBlackwood



Series: Pride and the Prince [1]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Fluff, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 23:36:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13774995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophinaBlackwood/pseuds/SophinaBlackwood
Summary: Jack keeps Mustafa company after a painful loss to Neville.





	Starting Point

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a rehash from an [old drabble](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6928939/chapters/22979151) but I wanted to put it in the Pride and the Prince series so I'm reposting it!

Mustafa didn't want to cry in front of anyone, least of all Jack, but as soon as they got back to his hotel room after the show, he was shaking wildly, tears spilling down over his cheeks. His first singles main event in the fed. _That was my chance and I blew it_ , he moaned in his mind, over and over. It was supposed to go differently. He thought he had been ready to face the King, but as soon as he extended his hand towards Neville to shake his hand, he was...  _scared._

And Mustafa was ashamed of that.

Of course, when he called, lovely Jack immediately cancelled his post-show plans to go to a jazz bar with Swann, and came to him instead. Jack was good like that. Truly, he was such a reliable friend. Mustafa didn't deserve him.

“Why are you so upset?” Jack asked softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You did so well. You know, you won their hearts. The crowd simply adored you. Isn't that more important?” But Mustafa could not stop crying, tears squeezing from his eyes as he let out a tiny wail of exhaustion and disappointment.

“I know,” Mustafa moaned, face down into the pillow. Jack's words were a nice gesture, but it wasn’t the point. It’s that he let that self-proclaimed, horrible  _King_ get in his head. Maybe if he hadn’t been so terrified, he could have won the match. There were moments during their fight where he'd come _so_ close. Seeing that blown shock in Neville's eyes, so tellingly that he'd underestimated Mustafa more than once.. it was an addicting sight.

_I want to fight him again._ A thought that kept swirling in Mustafa's mind, inexplicable and profound.

It was when he felt Jack roll onto the mattress beside him that Mustafa looked up. Jack's expression was mostly unreadable, but there were distinct notes of compassion and sensitivity. Jack was so painfully sweet. Mustafa frowned at how he must look in Jack's eyes. A flushed, ruddy face and blood-shot eyes. The face of a loser.

Jack smiled at him, hopelessly tender, and Mustafa blinked at the unexpected, undeniable change of his own heartbeat. 

_Oh. Oh dear._

"Take solace in the face that I have you, and you have I, and when that illegitimate King of the  _Croozerwehghts_ finally loses the title- probably to you," Jack pinched Mustafa's elbow endearingly, who blushed a considerable amount at the flattery. "He will be completely alone." Jack's hand ran up Mustafa's arm to to smooth over his bare shoulder, pale fingers making his skin tingle pleasantly.

Mustafa sighed and buried his head back into the pillow. That was just the problem.

He didn’t want anyone to be completely alone.

Not even Neville.


End file.
